


When You're Weary

by Anonymous



Series: A Little Series [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Infantilism, Non-Sexual Age Play, Platonic Cuddling, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 11:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10535511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Bucky takes care Steve, because it's hard being the strong one all the time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts).



He doesn’t slip between mindsets like Bucky does. Steve’s choice to be little is always a very conscious decision.

Except, sometimes, he does look fragile around the edges. Or weary. Or just… little. And if Bucky can (and he can’t always) but when he can, he goes to Steve.

Like now.

Steve returned from a session with his therapist and sat down on the couch and then didn't move. It's been damn near hours, the afternoon bleeding into early evening. The Tower is quiet with everyone doing their own things but Steve just sits. In front of the television, not turned on. One of his sketchbooks on the table in front of him, not open.

And he stares.

Thousand yards. Ten thousand maybe. His hand on his chin like _The Thinker_.

And Bucky knows. Knows how Steve gets, all caught up in his own head where people are always dying and he can’t save them, where time slipped by without him, where the world is constantly in danger.

It’s a dark place to be.

There are better places to be. Softer, brighter places to be.

Bucky goes, quietly, back to Steve’s bedroom. He fetches Steve’s lounge clothes and, from the top drawer of Steve’s dresser, the small stuffed sheep with the yellow ribbon around his neck.

It’s not much. But it’s something.

He comes back to where Steve is still sitting, staring. Thinking. Thinking dark, bleak things.

“Steve,” he says, and holds out the lounge clothes. “Change,” he says. “You look uncomfortable.”

Steve snaps out of his trance then, stares at Bucky for a moment then notices the sheep and blushes a little.

“I’m fine, Bucky.”

Bucky just looks at him, one eyebrow raising slightly.

Steve hangs his head, sighs and then stands up, taking the clothing from Bucky.

When he comes back, Bucky’s got a hot bowl of popcorn on the table and a couple of sodas. He ushers Steve back onto the couch and drapes one of his soft, fleece blankets over him before pulling up a movie on the screen. _Moana._ They haven’t seen it yet.

He sits down and hands Steve the sheep.

“You’re okay,” he says when Steve crawls a bit closer to him, looking shy and young, and god, how does Steve take care of Bucky so easily, without his heart breaking every day. Seeing your best friend look so delicate and worn out is hard. 

Bucky lifts his arm and lets Steve rest his head on Bucky’s chest. He feels pliant, lax and fragile. He’s not Captain America right now. Bucky puts his arm down, across Steve’s back and it feels like the past. Like when Steve’s Ma died and he finally let Bucky give him a hug. How thin he’d felt then. Bucky rubs his hand across Steve’s back, his other hand coming up to play gently with Steve’s hair.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” he says and the movie starts to play.

Steve tucks Finnegan under one of his arms. The toy looks tiny for a moment, but then Steve exhales and Bucky can feel all his taut muscles relax and it’s like something clicking into place. The toy still looks small but it seems right in Steve’s grasp, like he’s been holding himself together for ages but now he can just relax. Bucky and Finnegan will watch over him now. He doesn't have to worry. He's safe. 

When the movie is over, Steve is asleep. Snoring quietly, even. Bucky just sits with him for a few more moments, still absentmindedly petting at his hair. It’s been a long journey to this place, to this time where people love both of them, care if they are injured, if they're tired or weary. Care about them coming home. But it was worth it, Bucky thinks. Worth everything that brought them here, even if it's too much to think about sometimes. Too much to take. The weight of the world.

Still. They don't have to carry that weight alone, anymore.

He doesn’t often think about the fact that he is stronger than most people. Only when he’s afraid of hurting someone. But now? Now he thinks of it. How easy it is to lift Steve in his arms, light as a feather, without disturbing him. How Steve turns, anyway, half-awake and tucks in closer to Bucky’s body as Bucky carries him to bed. 

He balances Steve in his arms while he pulls back the covers on Steve’s bed, before lying him down. Steve curls up on his side, still clutching Finnegan and looking almost like he wants to suck his thumb. But he doesn’t. Bucky pulls the covers up over him, kisses his forehead, rubs his back till he falls back asleep. Till Bucky thinks he won't have a nightmare.

He leaves the door to Steve’s room cracked open and the hallway light on. Just incase he wakes up, he won’t have to do it alone in the dark.

In the morning, he finds Steve bright-eyed and bushy tailed in his kitchen, making what would be an obscene amount of pancakes for anyone other than two super soldiers.

He smiles when Bucky comes in, a tiny blush coming across his face as he says, “Thank you.”

Bucky makes sure that Bucky Bear has a fresh bottle of honey before helping set the table.

“Anytime, Stevie,” he says.


End file.
